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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25061731">From the Shadow Realm With Love</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mighty_Ant/pseuds/Mighty_Ant'>Mighty_Ant</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Adoption, Adoptive Parents - Freeform, Creating personalities for two dads who don't even have speaking lines, Give Lena a stable home life 2020, M/M, Nightmares, Post-Nightmare on Killmotor Hill, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, post-Friendship Hates Magic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 01:21:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,115</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25061731</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mighty_Ant/pseuds/Mighty_Ant</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After the horrors of the Shadow War, Tyrian and Indigo Sabrewing seriously consider moving out of Duckburg for the safety of their family. When they meet Lena, those plans go out the window.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Indigo Sabrewing/Tyrian Sabrewing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>161</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>From the Shadow Realm With Love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>They’re in the middle of movie night when Tyrian checks his phone for the fifth time in the last ten minutes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nestled beside him on the couch, tucked under his arm, Indigo laughs. “I told you, stop worrying so much! Violet is fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know she is,” Tyrian says, defensive as he opens his messages, “but there’s nothing wrong with wanting her to check in when she’s at her first sleepover.” He puts his phone back down on the coffee table, face up, with a frustrated huff. “Especially when her first sleepover is at McDuck Mansion! McDuck means well, but this is the same guy who donated those Parisii urns—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That turned out to be cursed,” Indigo says with an affectionate eye roll. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That turned out to be cursed!” Tyrian says adamantly. “We opened one to examine the interior only to find they’d been used to trap at least two dozen of these little demon things that I had to chase around the museum for four hours.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Indigo tips his head back into the space where Tyrian’s neck and shoulder meet. “They chewed up that tie I got you for your birthday,” he remarks thoughtfully. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Exactly,” Tyrian says. “So forgive me for being a little nervous about our daughter staying in the home of a guy who’s a magnet for magical catastrophes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Violet is spending time with a friend,” Indigo says firmly. “Her first friend and her first sleepover. We don’t want to pressure her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tyrian sighs,dropping his cheek on top of Indigo’s head. “Course not,” he admits quietly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As brilliant as their daughter is, she’s always struggled to socialize with kids her own age. This wasn’t helped by the fact that in the last year she’d begun taking college courses at Coot University, at the urging of several school counselors and the admissions office. They were certain that her intellect would be wasted, stifled even, if Tyrian and Indigo were to do otherwise. And university classes do seem to engage and challenge her in ways regular schooling hadn’t in years; she’s even tutoring some of her peers on the side. Violet is well on her way to becoming valedictorian, and yet her solitude has never been more obvious. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even the Junior Woodchucks turned out to be a nonstarter when Violet became far more interested in badge collecting than any of the group activities. And when she isn’t in class she’s increasingly spending her time at the downtown library, magical research her latest hobby. More than once, Tyrian and Indigo’s worry has kept them up long into the night, hoping beyond hope that they’re doing right by their daughter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Imagine their surprise when Violet returned home after her regular sojourn to the library,  happily informing them that she had plans to stay the night at the home of a new friend. When they learned who exactly that friend was, well, they tried their best to respond positively. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was easier for Indigo, who’s always been the more laidback of the two. Tyrian’s the one who frets, usually unnecessarily, but as the evening drags on he can’t shake the feeling that he’s just waiting for the other pin to drop. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s just after eight when Tyrian’s phone buzzes with an incoming text message. He lunges for it, careful not to throw Indigo off the couch. Reading the contact ID, he grins, relief a balm for the anxiety tightening in his chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s Violet,” he informs Indigo, who watches him in amusement. Tyrian tilts his phone between them so they can both read Violet’s text, since she tends to compose them like full-blown letters, to their eternal fondness. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The sleepover is progressing well! Webbigail and I gave each other makeovers and used ancient Demogorgan rune stones to commune with souls of the undead. Then we were briefly trapped in the Shadow Realm but managed to escape and return Webbigail’s best friend, Lena, to corporeal form after being imprisoned there for the last six months. We are now giving each other makeovers again. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Con amor,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Violet </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Tyrian and Indigo look up to meet each other’s identically horrified faces. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll get my keys,” Indigo says. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lena is alive. But not really. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In her chest, an amulet pulses where a heart should beat. For six months she existed between worlds, and that’s all she did—</span>
  <em>
    <span>exist, </span>
  </em>
  <span>in the barest sense of the word. Invisible and intangible, she didn’t feel the coolness of a breeze on her face nor did sunlight warm her. She felt nothing and nothing felt her. Now, thrust back into the land of the living like a cavedweller thrust into daylight, she is overwhelmed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Touch, when it isn’t by Webby or Violet, is as jarring as knives on her skin.  Too many eyes on her makes her feel pinned, like a bug under glass. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That first night back, Lena hides in Webby’s room as her best friend explains the events of her near-disastrous sleepover to her family. Tulpas and shadow realms and the magic of friendship. Hopefully, Webby will forget to remind them how Lena betrayed them all to Aunt—to </span>
  <em>
    <span>Magica </span>
  </em>
  <span>not too long ago. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena has hardly let Webby out of her sight for the last six months and it kills her to do so now, but she knows that she wouldn’t be able to bear the family’s undivided attention, whether it be jubilant or damning. After all, she did nearly get Webby killed </span>
  <em>
    <span>again. </span>
  </em>
  <span>At the very least, she isn’t left alone, stewing in the fear of losing her grip on this plane and inexplicably vanishing again. As much as being tangible again overwhelms her, it’s better than the emptiness that used to consume her. Lena wouldn’t go back to the Shadow Realm if her life depended on it.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Violet is sitting on the bed beside her, high up in the loft that hides Webby’s proper room, secreted away like the good spy she is. They’re playing Baggle, the non-rune kind, because neither of them quite feels like communing with any more spirits tonight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena’s still a little surprised by how quickly she came around to Violet, still practically a stranger, and one she’d felt so bitterly toward for so much of the night. But her bluntness is refreshing in a way Lena never could’ve expected and the silence between them is comfortable. At least until they’re interrupted the sound of far-off voices, increasing in volume. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With some alarm, Lena realizes they’re calling Violet’s name. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who…?” she starts to say, hating the thread of panic in her voice as volatile magic blooms beneath her breastbone like a wellspring. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My dads,” Violet replies, looking perplexed. “They requested I update them on how the sleepover was progressing, and I have done so. I’m unsure what they’re doing here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, how honest were you in your ‘update’?” Lena says as the voices grow louder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Violet’s brow furrows. “I was completely truthful, of course.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” Lena mutters, pinching the bridge of her beak between thumb and forefinger. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They hear the door to Webby’s room open a level below. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Vi?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <span>Cariño, estás aqui?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re up here, Papi,” Violet calls down, scooting to the edge of the bed. The ladder leading up to the loft creaks, and Lena stiffens as the head and shoulders of an adult hummingbird emerge. He smiles at the sight of them, looking relieved. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So this is where you’ve been hiding,” he says. Even before he enters the room fully, it’s obvious to Lena that he’s tall and broadshouldered, with a closely cut fade. Once he’s standing he holds out his hand to help another hummingbird coming up the stairs, this one shorter and much slighter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Violet rises to embrace them, and they both sink to their knees to receive her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you alright?” the shorter of her two fathers says, leaning back to look Violet in the eye. He speaks with a thick Mexican accent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your text had us a little worried,” her other dad adds. He smiles weakly. “All that shadow stuff...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I’m perfectly fine,” Violet replies, distress forming a divot between her brows. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The taller of her two fathers tussles her hair. “We know you didn’t, sweetheart.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their interactions are devastatingly familiar to Lena, who has gone her entire existence watching happy, normal families go about their lives around her. She had projected so much of herself onto Violet</span>
  <span>—painted her as the liar, the traitor, the magic-user—that seeing her as she truly is, a normal kid with a happy, normal family, stings with the icy sharpness of a needle between her ribs. It’s a reminder of who she is, </span>
  <em>
    <span>what </span>
  </em>
  <span>she is, and how far from normal she has always been. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena keeps her gaze averted for much of the family reunion, so she almost jumps when she looks up and locks eyes with the taller of Violet’s fathers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Aren’t you gonna introduce us to your friend, Vi?” he says amiably. He and his husband don’t move from where they’re kneeling on either side of Violet, which is the only thing that keeps Lena rooted to her spot on the bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Certainly,” Violet says at once. “Lena, these are my dads, Dr. Tyrian and Indigo Sabrewing. Dad, Papi, this is Lena. We’ve only just met earlier this evening though I believe she falls under my newly acquired category of ‘friend’. Would this be a correct assessment, Lena?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena attempts one of her patented smirks, though it feels lacking. She’s gone too long without an audience. “You bet,” she replies lightly. “Helping free me from the Shadow Realm definitely makes you friend material.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Indigo’s arm tightens slightly where it’s gripping Violet’s shoulder. He and Tyrian exchange a glance over her head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t even imagine,” Tyrian says gently. “From what Violet’s told us about her research, the Shadow Realm doesn’t sound easy to escape from. You must be very brave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shame, uncomfortable and hot, washes over Lena. She crosses her arms and looks away. “Not really. Webby and Violet did most of the work.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nevertheless, it sounds as though it has been an eventful night,” Indigo says slowly. “We passed by the McDucks on our way up, but what about your parents? Would you like us to give them a call? They must be very worried.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena is once more buffeted by a wave of familiarity, and hardly the fond sort. It’s a line of questioning she heard often in the fifteen years of her existence, and she hasn’t missed it in these intervening months. First it was social services in Italy, so many years ago, looking down at what started out as a mute, simple creature, formed out of shadow and detritus not hours before: Why are you alone? It was a store clerk, gripping her by the back of the neck when she tried to shoplift some food: Where are your parents? Beakley, eternally distrustful, and her accusations hurt more than most because she was </span>
  <em>
    <span>right</span>
  </em>
  <span>: Who raised you? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So Lena shrugs, as she’s learned to do, shrugging off the question and any accompanying sting. “I’ve never had parents,” she replies. She doesn't say </span>
  <em>
    <span>family</span>
  </em>
  <span>, because some pathetic part of her still calls Magica ‘aunt’ in the back of her mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She expects the twin expressions of shock on the faces of Violet’s fathers (Violet herself simply blinks, though Lena is unsure whether she figured out that a living shadow could hardly be born biologically or she’s hiding any surprise she might’ve felt). What Lena doesn’t expect is for Tyrian and Indigo to descend into concern instead of allowing the topic to pass as so many have done before, whether awkward or embarrassed or uncaring. They make themselves more comfortable on the floor, not coming any closer, as they ask one gentle, probing question after another. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Indigo does most of the asking, with Tyrian offering input, while Violet returns to Lena’s side, a steadfast, reassuring presence that makes this feel less like an interrogation and more of a...conversation. The most frank and honest one she’s had in her life. She doesn’t know the Sabrewings like she knows the McDucks, she didn’t spend months gaining their trust, didn’t betray them, didn’t die in front of them twice. She’s tired and doesn’t feel the need to lie. So she doesn’t. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time she’s done speaking, lastly detailing tonight’s events, she’s tired. It’s a particular sort of exhaustion that has nothing to do with sleep; Lena feels spent, as though finally purging the lies and subterfuge has left her hollow. Tyrian and Indigo look shaken by her story and make no attempt to hide it. But there’s a softness in their expressions she’s only seen from the likes of Webby and a desperate, despondent Scrooge imprisoned in a magical cage. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow,” Tyrian says, blowing out a breath. “That’s...heavy. Thank you, Lena, for trusting us with your story.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena shrugs again, distinctly uncomfortable only now that she’s cut off the deluge of words falling from her beak. “It’s no big deal,” she mutters. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Indigo shakes his head. “I think it is. You’re a very strong kid.” He stands then, and offers a hand to Tyrian to pull him to his feet. Lena watches them with some alarm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“W-where are you going?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They are discussing your future downstairs,” Indigo says. “I think you should have a say too, don’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena glances off to the side where Violet smiles back at her, encouraging. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s been voiceless for so long. Even now, this momentary silence frightens her, as though it will claim her once more. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-yeah,” Lena responds, her confidence wavering, but a slow growing thing. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course Tyrian and Indigo remember the Shadow War. How could they forget?</span>
</p><p>
  <span> As strange as they knew Duckburg to be, it was their first real introduction to the danger associated with that strangeness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sky turned red like blood and remained that way for hours, even as late afternoon descended into night. A vortex of black magic and malice rose above the city, summoning living shadows whose crimson eyes gleamed with malevolence. Before joining this churning cluster, Indigo’s shadow came to life and swiped at him with talons that shouldn’t have been tangible but impossibly </span>
  <em>
    <span>were</span>
  </em>
  <span>, aiming for his throat. The blow would have struck home were it not for Tyrian tackling him to the floor in time to avoid it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was the most terrifying night of their lives, least of all because of the threats of bodily harm against them. Violet had left for the library not half an hour before the Shadow War began, and they didn’t hear from her again until the sky had gone dark with true night and the shadow vortex dissipated in a brilliant flash. When Violet did call, they were breathless and shaking with panic after scouring the city in search of her, and Tyrian burst into tears at the sound of her voice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the wake of the Shadow War, they attempt to return to their lives as though nothing has changed. Indigo resumes teaching, Tyrian attends to his museum duties. To her fathers’ consternation, Violet continues to spend much of her time alone, disappearing to the library for more hours than she ever did before, remaining vague about what exactly has captured her attention so avidly. Indigo starts to have nightmares, full of clawed grasping fingers and red eyes gleaming out of utter darkness. Tyrian practically stops sleeping altogether. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They continue this way for months, gradually healing, recovering from their respective ordeals. They find a family therapist with experience in trauma of supernatural origin, and Indigo’s nightmares lessen. Tyrian can manage more than three hours of sleep. Violet spends more time with them rather than completely disappearing to the library. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the Shadow War looms over them like a specter, ominous and dark, heavy with sinister promise. They’re safe, they were unhurt, but they can’t escape the insidious whisper of </span>
  <em>
    <span>this time. This time</span>
  </em>
  <span> their family was spared from imminent danger, this time their greatest concern was lost sleep and anxiety. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Next time</span>
  </em>
  <span> they might not be so lucky. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s discussion of moving out of Duckburg. Late into the night, wrapped around each other under the covers, they debate the pros and cons of leaving. Any other city (besides St. Canard) would be inherently safer than Duckburg. It wouldn’t be easy; they’d have to find new jobs, a new school for Violet. It’s only talk, and who knows if they would’ve gone through with it. Violet attends a sleepover (her first) that makes any hypotheticals a moot point. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If the Shadow War haunts them, then it torments Lena. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She doesn’t speak of it often, not after their first meeting where Lena, shaky and newly freed from a prison beyond the realm of imagining, laid out her life story with startling alacrity, as though to purge memory of the events with the same speed. Her...aunt, for lack of a better word (the term “creator” is callous, impersonal, and Lena is first and foremost a </span>
  <em>
    <span>person</span>
  </em>
  <span>) plotted the city’s desolation from within Lena’s own shadow, her own mind, her own body. With no one to talk to in the six months that followed, the likelihood of her having healed from those traumas is slim. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tyrian and Indigo invite Lena into their home for a number of reasons. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aside from Webby, she is the only kid Violet’s age who their daughter has ever enjoyed spending time with. The McDuck home, while more than welcoming, is already teaming with children and apparently a long-lost mother, finally home after ten years stranded on the moon. Lena requires singular attention in order to heal and grow, and despite their best intentions it may be more than the McDuck family can handle at the moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The most important reason is that she is a child who has never had anywhere to come home to, and they have a home to offer her. Who are they to turn her away?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t easy, of course, least of all at the start. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There are weeks of evasiveness, sleepless nights, lightbulbs shattering and plants dying as Lena’s emotions roil in tumultuous upset. Not wanting to push too soon, Tyrian and Indigo allow her to keep her silence even as she suffers from what they can only imagine are gripping nightmares and insomnia, judging by how little she seems to sleep. More than once, one of them will find her in the early hours of the morning, curled up painfully tight in a corner of the couch scrolling mindlessly through her phone or watching something on the television with the volume turned low. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It doesn’t help that Lena is impeccably polite with them, if dry, and utterly impersonal. For the first three weeks of her stay she refuses to call them anything other than Mr. and Dr. Sabrewing, and that’s when she actually speaks in their presence. While they are trying to give her space, allow her time to adjust on her own, there are times when their parental concern overrides any decisions they may have come to and they breach the fortifications of silence she has erected between them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you been sleeping well, Lena?” Tyrian asks, as innocuous as possible over breakfast one morning, four weeks into her stay. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Indigo is listening intently from the stove where he’s making pancakes while trying to act like he isn’t listening. Violet watches Lena in silence as she carefully cuts her pancake, shaped like a double helix, into smaller pieces. When Lena meets Tyrian’s gaze with a bland smile, the circles under her eyes are dark enough to be confused for makeup. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I’m fine,” she replies. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Indigo places a plate of pancakes in front of her, both of them made to look like saturn and its rings. “Are you sure?” he says, aiming for casual but not quite hitting the mark. “You didn’t need sleep for six months, so it must be strange to do so now. Do you need anything? More blankets, blackout curtains? I know I can never fall asleep if I don’t read a little first, so if you want to look through our collection</span>
  <span>—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really, I’m fine.” Lena cuts him off without heat, or annoyance, or anything other than a vague, painted on smile. </span>
  <span>“Don’t worry about it. I appreciate you letting me stay here, but I’m not your responsibility. You’ve already done plenty for me.” She pushes away her full plate and looks to Violet. “You ready to go, Vi? Webby’s waiting for us.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Glancing between her fathers’ concerned expressions, Violet hesitates in her response. “I will be there momentarily,” she says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena is drifting away before they even get to know her. If Indigo is worried, then Tyrian is out of his mind with it; they fear failing Lena with their inaction. It’s only after much discussion, fueled by fraught desperation, that Violet becomes their go-between. Albeit reluctantly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am averse to anything that will betray Lena’s trust,” she says, quiet but adamant, one evening in their bedroom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no of course not, cariño,” Indigo says at once, running his hands down her arms. He stops to squeeze her hands, clutching them gently in the space between their bent knees. “We would never ask you to do that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sitting beside him on the edge of their bed, Tyrian rubs one broad hand up and down Indigo’s back in comfort. “What your Papi said, sweetheart. We’re worried about Lena and we want to do everything we can to help her. You know her almost better than anyone. We’re just asking that if you think she needs our help, and she isn’t coming to us, let us know so that we can go to her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Violet thinks about it a moment. “Very well,” she replies. “I would be amenable to that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, would you be amenable?” Indigo retorts, grinning as he tugs Violet into his arms, fingers dancing across her ribs as he tickles her. “Ty, amor, I think she’s amenable.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure about that?” Tyrian replies thoughtfully. “We should double check.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not fair, Papi!” Violet exclaims, her voice jumping with laughter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If they hug their daughter just a little bit tighter that night, there’s no one to call them out on it but each other. They’re increasingly, glaringly conscious of the other child only a few walls away, a child they were entrusted with, a child they want to do right by. They can only hope that with time and patience and care she will open up to them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, in what’s becoming a startling trend, everything changes after the girls’ next sleepover. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They return home from a night celebrating Lena and Webby’s friendiversary with their heads held high and the pall of brittle cheer lifted from Lena’s features. Violet does most of the talking at dinner that evening, which comes as little surprise, though the same can’t be said of her tale of deserted islands, high school musicals, and traveling between dreams. Alarmed and confused Tyrian and Indigo may be, they are consoled by the palpable relief on Lena’s exhausted face as Violet explains how she successfully “banished Magica de Spell from her dreamscape.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No more nightmares,” Lena whispers in a gust of breath as she stands to clear the table, as though an incalculable weight has been lifted from her thin shoulders. She even smiles at Indigo and Tyrian when they wish her good night. They go to bed feeling more reassured than they have in weeks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Only a few hours later, the dark silence is sharply broken by the pop and crackle of every single light bulb in the house exploding at once. Indigo sits up sharply in bed but it takes Tyrian several more moments to struggle out from under the covers, sleep-addled and confused. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Las </span>
  <span>niñas,” Indigo says in a rush, his eyes wide in the dark, and Tyrian is rushing out of bed after him before he’s even processed his husband’s words beyond the panic in his face. They nearly collide into one another in the hall, clutching at arms and shoulders and shirts in an attempt to steady each other as they trip through the darkness, alarm making their hearts beat staccato against their sternums.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Violet is waiting for them outside Lena’s open doorway. She has a flashlight in her hand, ever the industrious Junior Woodchuck, and she looks haunted in its sickly pale yellow light.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Violet, honey, are you okay?” Tyrian hurries over to her at once. She shrugs off his concern with a sharp nod. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I’m fine. I believe it is Lena who needs your assistance.” Her brow furrows, betraying the depth of her worry. “She is refusing to let me enter her room.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tyrian locks eyes with Indigo, the same understanding passing through them. Never in the two months Lena has been with them has she denied Violet. What was once their one constant is now broken. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, thank you, sweetheart,” Indigo says as Tyrian pushes himself back to his feet. “Can you wait for us right here?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both of them know that Violet will agree, but they still wait for her nod before they move to enter Lena’s bedroom. The only source of light is the moon, splaying out onto her bed through the window. The sheets are rumbled, the bed empty. They might think she wasn’t here at all but the shadows run deep and dark, and they sense another presence in the room with them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lena, honey, where are you?” Tyrian says. He flicks the lightswitch a few times before he remembers that there aren’t bulbs to light. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lena?” Indigo calls gently as they edge further into the room, practically blind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span> A quiet voice warbles out of the oppressive darkness. “Please go away.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Indigo smiles, in the hope that Lena can see better in the darkness than they can. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Violet doesn’t either, and you know that it’s better not to disagree with her when she’s right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I said </span>
  <em>
    <span>go away!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Lena snaps, still invisible in the darkness but for a pair of violet eyes that snap open with a flash. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Indigo doesn’t flinch at the sight of them, but it’s a near thing. Up until four months ago, his nightmares had been plagued by eyes just like that, only crimson, gleaming out of the dark with promised malice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lena,” Tyrian tries, “we just want to help. Will you let us help you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” she says. “No, I don’t want to hurt you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We know you would never hurt us, Lena,” Indigo counters gently once he finds his voice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Those violet eyes burn in the dark. “Of course I would,” she retorts, her voice breaking. “You’re so n-nice and so normal and I’m-I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I was made by a monster to </span>
  <em>
    <span>be </span>
  </em>
  <span>a monster.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The room is thick with the sharp smell of ozone and rosemary; the strange combination they’ve come to recognize as indication of strong, restless magic. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It doesn’t matter who raised you,” Indigo says, hard with conviction but tempered with care. “You choose who you are, who you want to be. Nothing else matters.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where’s this coming from?” Tyrian asks, brow furrowed as he remembers Lena’s pride and relief only a few hours prior. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aun</span>
  <span>—Magica was in my dream.” Lena tears the confession from her throat as if it were a cancerous growth. “She was there again and she grabbed my hand and she took me—she took my magic.” Her voice rattles like it’s coming apart at the seams and in that instant both Indigo and Tyrian are at a loss. There is so much they still don’t understand, and it’s moments like these that prove how laughably out of their depth they are. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Violet speaks up, soft and no nonsense from the doorway. “That’s factually impossible, Lena. I saw you crush her telepathic helmet. There is no way Magica could have entered your dreamscape without it, she’s not powerful enough on her own.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then why did I see her?” Lena demands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think,” Tyrian says, quietly at first and then with growing strength. “I think you just had a nightmare. A regular nightmare.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The silence that answers them grows thick, pregnant with apprehension. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just...a regular nightmare,” Lena echoes disbelievingly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In a rush, the oppressive darkness of the room seems less so. The deep shadows retreat, allowing moonlight to illuminate more fully, its silver beams falling across the slight form of the girl curled up in the space between her bed and her nightstand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena lifts her head from where she’d dropped it atop her folded knees, tears brimming in eyes that are once more clear and dark, no longer gleaming violet with unchecked magic. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A regular nightmare,” she says again, laughing now, though there is nothing humorous about her tone. “I...I forgot I could have those. Since I came back they-they’ve been real. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She’s </span>
  </em>
  <span>been real.” Her features crumble around the smile she is trying to maintain. “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know </span>
  </em>
  <span>she can’t get to me anymore. Why does it still feel like this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>  Tyrian and Indigo reach out to each other, holding their hands as they carefully approach Lena. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because you’re still afraid,” Tyrian says quietly as he and Indigo slowly sit down on the deep blue, swirling rug Lena had picked out for her room so many weeks ago. They get as near as they can to arm’s length without crowding her. “And that’s okay. That’s normal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena watches them guardedly through eyes rimmed red with tears. “Are you afraid?” she bites out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Indigo answers honestly. Tyrian looks at him in surprise. “But not of you, Lena. I was, and still am, afraid for my family. The world is not always as safe as we’d like it to be, and sometimes our nightmares reflect that. I have nightmares of the Shadow War.” Lena flinches, but he plows on. “Nightmares of what happened. What might have happened.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Then how could you possibly want me here?” Lena snaps, roughly scrubbing away evidence of her tears on the back of her hand. “I’m the reason you have nightmares! The Shadow War was </span>
  <em>
    <span>my </span>
  </em>
  <span>fault.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The night we met, you told us about the Shadow War,” Tyrian counters gently. “You told us about Magica. We know that none of what happened was your fault, kiddo.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena meets his gaze with a hard glare of her own, holding eye contact for longer in that moment than she has in all the weeks they’ve known her. Her eyes start to glow violet once more. Nearly thirty seconds later, when Tyrian continues to calmly stare back, she drops her cheek on top of her bent knees. Her eyes flicker back to normal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why do you care so much?” her voice is painfully small. “Even without all the magic stuff...I’m just some kid.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tyrian turns to look at Indigo, hope and trepidation mingling on his open face. Indigo nods, smiling, and glaces over his shoulder to beckon at Violet, who hasn’t moved an inch from the doorway. Tyrian chuckles as Violet joins them, snuggling between him and his husband. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because you’re our kid,” he replies, hesitation dimming his otherwise bright smile. “Or, at least, we want you to be. If that’s what you want, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena’s brow furrows, confused and disbelieving. “You don’t even know me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We know you wear less makeup on good days,” Indigo says. “We know that you don’t care about the Junior Woodchucks but you help Violet with her badgework whenever she asks.” He laughs tightly, eyes suspiciously wet. “And I know that you don’t like my pancakes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena smiles, her beak wobbling. “I do like your pancakes, Indigo.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well there you go. We’re learning something new every day.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span> “You don’t have to decide anything tonight,” Tyrian says firmly. “Or even tomorrow. Right now, we just want to make sure you’re okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-yeah,” Lena says, shaken and uncertain and small. “Uh, thanks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lena,” Violet says briskly, “If it bears any weight on your decision, I’d like you to know that I’ve considered you my sister for the past several weeks now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She appears singularly unruffled under the startled gazes of Lena and her fathers, but Tyrian notices a telltale tightness around her eyes that betrays her true anxiety. It’s a trait she shares with Indigo. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena laughs. It’s quiet, hardly much of a laugh at all, but for them it rings clear as a bell in what was very quickly becoming an overwhelming silence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, Vi,” she says, her smile as genuine as they’ve ever seen it. “It does. Help, I mean.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Violet beams, pleased. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Indigo caresses her hair with a gentle smile before leveling Lena with the same look. “I know it has been an emotional night. Do you want us to let you get some rest?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena ducks her head, fiddling with the sleeve of her pajama shirt. “Actually, I don’t think I can go back to sleep right now. If that’s okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Of course,” Indigo says. “Anything you need, Lena.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Might I suggest watching a horror movie with a convoluted plot to put you more at ease?” Violet pipes up, her smile just this side of sly, in a way is obvious she’s picked up from Lena. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena snorts, wiping her cheek free of any remaining evidence of tears. “You know what? That sounds great.” With some effort, pushes herself out of the dark corner she’s ensconced herself in and to her feet with some effort, and Indigo and Tyrian stand with her. Between them, she’s pale and wrung out, her thin shoulders accustomed to carrying so much weight, but there’s a lightness about her that they’ve never seen before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She hesitates before Tyrian and Indigo. “Do...do you want to watch with us?” she asks. “I know it’s late and you probably want to go back to sleep—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’d love to,” Tyrian interrupts, stunned by the invitation and his grin doing little to hide it. “Right, Indy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Indigo pats him on the back, looking amused. “Now we’ll be the ones up with nightmares.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Speak for yourself! I’m not the one who made us sleep with the lamp on for a month after we watched</span>
  <em>
    <span> The Priest</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Lena blurts, startling them once more. “Ty. Indy. Thanks for...what you said. Letting me stay here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Indigo reaches out to her slowly, allowing her to step back if she chooses to. When she doesn’t, he gently squeezes her arm. “This is your home,” he asserts firmly. “For as long as you want it. Whether that’s two more weeks or forever.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” she replies quietly, and her smile while small is breathtakingly sincere. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Between them, Violet’s breath hitches in the instant before she rushes forward, throwing her arms around Lena’s middle. Lena is propelled backward half a step, her arms flying out at her sides. Startled laughter bubbles out of her as she returns Violet’s embrace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“C’mon, nerd, we’re never gonna get the movie started at this rate,” she murmurs, tightening her hug as she speaks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Violet sniffs once, extracting herself diplomatically. “Of course. I apologize for my outburst. What are your thoughts regarding </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dr. Slaughterhouse M.D</span>
  </em>
  <span>.?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think it’s a horrifying gore fest that relishes in the way violence corrupts impressionable minds. Excellent choice.” Lena nods seriously, breaking with a smile as she nudges Violet forward. She starts to follow Violet out of her room, when she pauses in the doorway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s for the barest fraction of a moment, but she holds Tyrian’s gaze with nothing short of fear as she awaits their rejection. Tyrian takes that split second to reassure her, wrapping his arm around Indigo’s shoulders and moving to join Lena. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s the hold up?” he says wryly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena smirks, the fear gone. Perhaps only temporarily, but gone all the same.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just waiting for you two geezers to catch up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Geezers?” Indigo repeats, his accent delightfully mangling the word. “I’ll show you who the geezer is!” He ducks out from under Tyrian’s arm to make a mad dash out of the room, startling Lena into laughter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tyrian makes a show of sighing heavily. “C’mon, kiddo, we better make sure he doesn't hurt himself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite his words, he doesn't rush and he’s gratified when Lena doesn’t either. Instead, she sticks close to his side as they make their way to the living room. It’s more slow-going than usual thanks to temporary dark, and through the gloom he can make out Lena trailing a hand along the wall. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry about the lightbulbs,” she says, sounding embarrassed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tyrian nudges her with his elbow. “Don’t worry about it. We’ve been buying extra.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks so much for reading! Defining Ty and Indy's characters was the main challenge of writing this fic, and I relied on Violet's own personality to imagine what the two men who raised her might be like. I hope you enjoyed it, and please leave a comment if you can!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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